


Me llaman bruja (porque puedo levantar cosas sin tocarlas)

by allollipoppins



Series: Everybody loves Yuuri [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Confident Katsuki Yuuri, God Katsuki Yuuri, God Victor Nikiforov, God Yuri Plisetsky, Greek and Roman Mythology - Freeform, Multi, Witch Katsuki Yuuri, some YuYuu if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:18:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allollipoppins/pseuds/allollipoppins
Summary: The Erotes are many things. Sons of Aphrodite, they were born of love and embodied it in its most passionate, powerful forms: love, desire, and requited affection. And yet two of them hold love only for their other sibling, and neither is prepared to share.





	Me llaman bruja (porque puedo levantar cosas sin tocarlas)

**Author's Note:**

> This idea had been haunting me for quite a few months already, and I just had to write it down once and for all. Also I recently listened to In This Moment's new album, Ritual, which influenced a great deal of the writing process. It isn't amazing but meh, I like it either way.  
> Special gift of sorts for my muse, though I know she'll kill me once she sees the tags and guesses what I had in mind ^^'  
> Kudos, bookmarks and comments are always appreciated :)

Yuri Plisetsky came to him in all of his heroic glory. Sinfully beautiful, face as radiant as the sun and the goddess whose heritage he bore, smiles and weapons as sharp as the ones his father crafted for soldiers of the olympian realm.

"So, you're the witch" Yuri huffed disdainfully, and if his looks hadn't given him away, Yuuri was sure his arrogance was that of a godling's, or at the very least an emperor's son. Such sense of superiority could only come from such singular places.

He chuckled lightly at the denomination, a small smile beginning to tug at his smile that only made Plisetsky more irate. Yuuri didn't feel the least insulted at the lack of respect he was delivered on behalf of this one hero. Many had crossed his doorstep before him, and many more would come. But all things in time.

"I see my reputation precedes me," Yuuri simply replied, busying himself with what was on his worktable rather than paying too much attention to the blond soldier before him. Pieces of wax taken from melted candles, rose petals, ribbons of fabric and herbs of varied origins were strewn on the mat he used to protect the wooden surface from damage. Everything he would need for a binding ritual, should one come in need of such a spell.

Sadly, it seemed as if his preparations would have to wait, he thought as he exhaled softly, straightening his form.

“As your own does, Yuri Plisetsky, son of Aphrodite and Ares. But if I may ask, who led you to me?”

Yuri has the gall to snort at his question, which only added to his initial impression. “Does it matter in the end? I'm just here because I need a goddamn spell, and you're going to give me what I want!”

Yuuri frowned at his words, smile still perfectly in place. Yet he could tell his patience would probably wear off fast if they kept at it for too long.

“Now now, may I suggest you watch that mouth of yours, dear boy?” He felt satisfaction as Yuri sneered at the name. “And anyway, I can tell you don't have much time left. All I wonder, is why you would come such a long way for someone as little as me.”

Yuri huffed, crossing his arms in the process and analyzing the shop around him.

“They say you're the most competent witch in this area, if not the best. And I could use some help for what I intend to do.”

He didn't go on to explain what it was exactly that he needed to do, and Yuuri wasn't one to pry further. He had heard the rumors, of course. Of the honor of the gods, the honor his fathers had lost following eras of conflicts and family feuds, the honor Yuri would have to redeem back if he wished to have his place in the Pantheon. Many trials awaited him, ones that were sure to test him, break him even.

Didn't mean that Yuuri would make it any easier on him.

“Still, I believe it is worth mentioning that as much as I could help you, I'm not sure my magic will enable you to fully attain your strength and powers. Here, as they know me in this village, I am mostly known for herbal concoctions and love advice.”

Yuri raised an eyebrow. “Love advice? Who the hell would come to a witch for love advice, of all things? How ridiculous!”

Oh, if only he knew.

“That's because humans know nothing of love, Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuuri sighed. “At least not love as it should be. They have been led to grant their raw and disdainful selfishness for what it's not. Anyone who abandons himself to such a sin is no better than all the demons inhabiting the Underworld. If you truly love someone you'll let them go. No one belongs to you.”

“Why do you even speak of yourself as if you were superior to them? Aren't you human, too?”

Yuuri chuckled at that, a sound that made Yuri jump back. When he realized what he had just done he steadied himself to watch the magician laugh. A low, throaty laugh that wasn't unkind or condescending as such, but nevertheless carried undertones of sadness.

“Are you even aware of the reasons why people call me “witch”, Yuri Plisetsky?”

He steps forward and away from his desk, and that's when Yuri sees it. The air crinkling around them, the atmosphere filled with sparks that weren't there before. Magic clings to Yuuri, right on the tip of his fingertips, sparks and smoke trail after him through every limb, tracing curves and lingering in every step he takes towards Yuri. Instinctively he takes a step back as both magic and magician close onto him, not refraining once to think of how stupid he is being to fall into such a trap, he, a god!

“Don't you know how the masses call me? I must say, you aren't very instructed for a god.”

“You know, the people here have me pegged for a devil. I like to think I could never be entitled to the name, but you never know... What says I'm not every bit as bad, if not worse?”

The air surrounding them grows heavier with every move he makes, filling Yuri's mind like an invisible fog that seems to be closing onto him by the minute, ensnaring him and caging him like an animal. Yuuri advances on him with eyes full of something he can't put a finger on in his panic – not quite malice, but close enough, earnest.

“I am a witch: Offspring of Hecate, Goddess of Witchcraft and Magic. My body encapsulates the universe and all of its powers within flesh and bones. I am capable of bending the elements at will and nature obeys my every command. I am in your image, and yet none of me is like you in any aspect or manner. Even entities as abstract as me can take on a physical manifestation in your world. You would be wise not to provoke me, boy. I can inflict madness on you – on _anyone_ – in the blink of an eye. Birthrights be damned."

He is so close now Yuri can feel his hot breath on his cheeks, smell the flowery, sweet notes of his perfume. His eyes don't stray from Yuuri's own, though they shift at some point towards his lips. Cupid's bow, soft-looking and glowing pink against the pale skin. He feels his own cheeks heating as his gaze focuses on them for far too long before raising back to meet Yuuri's brown irises. From the way they appear to swallow him whole, pupils dilated like an endless well, and the raised eyebrows, he knows he's been caught.

“I am tempted to believe you a fool, Yuri Plisetsky. Only a fool would come to me begging for power he already has.”

A fool, and a boy. However, Yuuri doesn't let this one go past his lips. He has had enough of riling up the young god for now, as fun as it can be. He is, after all, quite immature for his age.

He goes back behind the desk, giving Plisetsky his space back to breathe. He bends over the table, elbows resting atop the wood and material spread over the top, hands clenched to rest his chin on his knuckles.

“For some reason, I also feel the need to remind you of certain details. My magic comes at a price, darling. As much as I like to play good pilgrims, I can only sustain myself on so much.”

“I believe,” he continues, “that you are now aware of the causes and consequences your futures actions may have on not only you but also the people surrounding you. I may be one witch out of an entire kind, but the rules are the rules. Entrusting your heart to a witch is no different to entrusting it to a god. Once you give it away there is no turning back. A contract of sorts, if you wish for a formal way of putting it.”

The resulting angle the new position gave him, he knew to be quite flattering. His colored, already loose tunic fell from under his front, revealing a greater portion of his collarbone. His partly hunched shoulders gathered up only enough fabric for it not to reveal his whole chest. Had he been a woman, the sight he would have offered would have been fit for a scandal, but as it was he was no woman. And even in this state he wasn't any less appealing to his audience.

“I say you think twice before you make a decision you might later regret. You shoudn't trust me with your life. Normal beings underestimate my abilities, you never know what I'd get up to with one's heart and soul. A human is only as useful without their heart, mind or soul as a man without imagination; for better or worse, gods are no better. If you lack either you might as well be dead.”

A beat passes between them. Silence settles in as they stare at each other, Yuuri watching the inner conflict inside the youngest as he reflects that maybe, the battle has been long fought and won.

Their connection breaks in the blink of an eye. Yuri's own. “So? Will you help me, then?” he states back, in his renewed firm tone.

Yuuri smirked. “Persistent as ever, I see, but yes. I will entrust you my craft if it should be of use for your quest.”

With a swift wave of his hand, the ingredients previously placed on his table vanished in front of Yuri's bewildered eyes. The japanese witch turned his back from the youngest to look for what he needed, picking objects and jars scattered across the many shelves of the small though crowded shop. Yuri watched in wonder as his hands sought after artefacts he couldn't put a name on, incapable as he was of making a difference between all materials. His eyes followed the witch, who ran from corners to corners with a grace that reminded him of a dancer's, feet light and scurrying on the wooden floor in spite of the many articles he carried in his arms. He almost offered to help him, but stepped back when his fingers brushed Yuuri's arm in passing and received a tingle in return, an energy that crackled in the air. Probably his magic already at work and burning to life inside that body of his.

Yuuri settled back behind the desk, depositing all that he had gathered and appraising. Black candles, one of which he lit in a snap of his fingers that startled Yuri. Basil, bay leaves, pumpkin seeds, salt, thick red thread, and oil. A red, slim wax doll still in its box completed the set at the center of the circle.

“And last but not least...” Yuuri muttered, lifting his gaze to meet Yuri's expectant ones, “I'm going to need something of yours. Hair, a piece of clothing, a hand-me-down... anything connected to you in one way or another, as long as it represents an important part of you.”

As expected, Yuri didn't hesitate before pulling out a small knife from his pocket and cutting a strand of hair. Yuuri gladly took it, ready to drop it inside the box until Yuri suddenly grabbed his wrist. Taken aback by the motion, Yuuri locked eyes with Yuri who, now aware of what he had done, roughly let go of his wrist and looked down. Yuuri followed the hand that fell back to the side, digging back into the pocket to retrieve the knife and hand it over.

“My grandfather's... just take it already!” Yuri snapped, not looking back at him once. Yuuri suspected it had to do with the red that had flowed in his cheeks after he had touched him.

He couldn't help but feel pity towards the smaller boy – man, he mentally corrected himself – and only nodded. As he places both the golden lock and knife inside the box, Yuuri notes that a red mark lingers on his wrist. A handprint, Yuri's if he's not mistaken, and he knows he isn't.

He mentally winces. If his brothers don't have Yuri's head over this, they'll have his, for sure.

“Let's just get started then, shall we?”

Yuri nodded curtly in response. At his sign Yuuri turned back to his work. On to it then.

The protection spell as it was happened to be relatively simple, but it demanded a fair amount of concentration and power in order to be effective. Given Yuri's status, Yuuri knew he would have to expand the spell to match the young hero's needs.

As he was a son of Mars, Yuuri went for the fire first. He gathered all herbs, condiments and seeds in a bowl and added oil to it, letting the liquid trickle into the recipient as his free hand waved to light up a candle. Setting aside the oil once he had the desired amount, he took hold of the candle and dipped it at the center of the bowl. Black wax melted and dripped into the bowl, the candle burning at almost inhuman speed as it filled half the bowl. Flames were brought to life instantly, consuming the elements and reducing them to a pile of dripping, syrupy cinder. With a twist of his wrist he set the bowl aside to make way for the box where the doll rested, then reaching for the lock of hair and twisting around the doll's neck. Yuri grimaced a little at the way he tightened the knots and the neck, as if the doll's head were ready to snap and roll on the table.

Yuuri made it stand up and then went for the bowl again, turning it down so the dark mixture would fall on the doll and cover it entirely. The gooey mixture dribbled down along the lines of the doll's body, covering the pale red wax and blond strands in black almost entirely. Before it could dry, Yuuri placed his hands on the doll, raising it and speeding the covering process by spreading the mixture with his fingers. Yuri was entranced by the way his fingers moved along, with reverence, the way one handles a wounded limb or a fragile being. A certain sensuality lied in those fingers, he could tell, in spite of the less-than-appealing liquid coating Yuuri's digits. Though invisible, the hint of magic remained in his movements.

He suddenly snapped out of his daydream when Yuuri reached for the knife and sliced his palm open in a single slash. He swallowed thickly as he watched the blood ooze from the cut, and fall directly on the doll as if attracted by it. Yuuri closed his palm then brought it to his mouth, blowing on it. When he opened back his palm, the cut was gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Yuuri last took the red thread, untangling its knots and wrapping the thick, wooly material around the doll and knife from head to toe. As he ascended from wax limb to limb, Yuri started to feel a little uneasy. Except that time it wasn't caused by the magician's presence and magical manifestations, but rather a physical restlessness. His legs felt heavier than he last remembered, and his body carried a soreness that hadn't been there before. Maybe the trip had finally had reason of him, and exhaustion was on its way to full effect. His head suddenyl throbbed with the beginnings of a headache, and dizziness took over him. Gods above, how he wanted to sleep...

Yuri's knees gave under him, and he fell to the floor. Panicked, he weakly raised his head towards the witch.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing to me?!”

“Sealing the deal, what else?” He brandished the completed doll, placing it stood up in the bowl, then proceeded to pour more oil on it. “I did say that all magic had a price, didn't I?”

When he sets fire to the doll, Yuri screams. Flames consume the object as Yuri writhes on the floor, prey to an invisible enemy he can't fight against. Reluctant tears escape his eyes and blur his vision, his soul screeching in his ears, keeping him from seeing or hearing Yuuri's incantations and the way his eyes turn a different shade as he recited his spells.

And then it just... stopped. As suddenly as he had started.

The pull tugging at his limbs vanished instantly, and he had to lay back to catch his breath.

“Now, then, that wasn't so bad, was it?”

Yuri didn't dare to answer as he got back up, only staring at the witch in wonder. Yuuri looked equally exhausted as he felt, cheeks slightly flushed and hands outstretched over his work.

Before he can stop himself, Yuri blurts out: “Don't you have a bit of godliness in you, too?”

Yuuri huffs, contemplating his question. “So I've been told, and so I'm sometimes led to believe.”

He lays the doll back into its box, both now an assorted black color. “As of today, Yuri Plisetsky, your soul rests in my hands. Rest assured that I shall do all that is in my power to protect you from harm, but remember that the path you take all depends on you.”

“Yeah yeah, I gathered as much the first time,” Yuuri grunts, but nods gratefully either way. “I... I guess I'll be seeing you, then.”

Yuuri nods back with a small, serene smile. “Oh, that you will. Safe travelling!” He waves at him, only to be tuned out by Yuri who quickly makes his way out.

His eyes follow him as his feet go on the path leading to the hills, not even turning at the thump resonating behind him.

“Brothers,” he acknowledges.

He turns on himself to find Victor and Eros before him, twin expressions of annoyance on their faces.

Yuuri sighs.

This was going to be a long afternoon.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Share the love on tumblr:  
> \- my muse @yuuriharemheadcanons  
> \- your servant @allollipoppins


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